


Acrophobia

by CassidyHartwick



Category: Original Work
Genre: Acrophobia, Fear, Fear of Death, Fear of Falling, Fear of Heights, Phobia, Phobias, Rock climbing, lets go motherfuckers, you bet your ass i just said rock climbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 01:44:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11453388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassidyHartwick/pseuds/CassidyHartwick
Summary: The words hung on the tightrope bound between them, tight and edged and slanted, as she hesitated. Her stomach coiled and released at the sight of the wall, and just how far the top seemed from where she stood. Butterflies clawed their way through her stomach and up her throat, pointed wings piercing soft tissue, yet she managed to choke out a single syllable.“Yes?”





	Acrophobia

Acrophobia

 

“There’s really nothing to be worried about, it’s not even that high.”

 

Words such as these do little to still a frantic soul. They were simply sounds, noises in the wind, that could not stop the unsteady beating of her battered heart against her ribcage. An arrhythmic, desperate pounding, as if it were trying to escape the claustrophobia of her chest. 

 

For the moment that she had stepped into the broad, windowless studio, something in the depths of her conscience was sent spiraling off it’s axis. Towering walls on strange angles stretched into the sky, the path to the top littered with chipped plastic stones in offputting vibrancies of neon. Fluorescent lights cast geometric shadows onto the concrete floor, and left the room in a muted haze of somber silhouettes. Ropes of crimson and mustard and cyan swung back and forth in a hypnotic rhythm, and climbers grinned and laughed as they scaled the heights with ease. As if they were teasing her.

 

And as she glared at the industrial, metallic ceiling, she wanted nothing more than to spin on her heel and return to the outside. But she would stay. She had promised herself that she would stay.

 

So, through the motions. A woman with cropped blonde tresses and a thin smile spoke to the group, outlining the regulations of the facility. A broad-shouldered man with bright eyes and dark skin handed her a harness, and the bulky straps of ebony and nylon pulled taught around body, lacing around her torso like spider web. He led her over to the wall.

 

And perhaps it was the shaking of her pale palms, or the beads of sweat forming at her temples, or the incessant flexing and curling of her anxious fingers, but the instructor took note of her fear.

 

“There’s really nothing to be worried about, it’s not even that high.”

 

But he did not understand. Because it was not heights that she feared, but the fall. Of the endless expanse between her and the kindness Earth below, a place of stability and safety that swaddled her in a gentle calm. Of the moment spent suspended in open air, knowing what is to come next.

 

And because, after the fall, comes the impact. Of stark white bone meeting dulled concrete. Of the  _ crack _ of her frail body hitting the unforgiving floor below, and finally understanding the delicacy of being human.

 

The instructor turned towards her. “Ready, then?”

 

The words hung on the tightrope bound between them, tight and edged and slanted, as she hesitated. Her stomach coiled and released at the sight of the wall, and just how far the top seemed from where she stood. Butterflies clawed their way through her stomach and up her throat, pointed wings piercing soft tissue, yet she managed to choke out a single syllable.

 

“Yes?”

 

It was phrased as a question, but received as a response. Strong hands shepherded her towards the wall, and suddenly she stood square with the beast.

 

“Just relax, and don’t forget to breathe.”

 

Breathing? Right.

 

She stared up at the obstacle, challenging it.  _ You will not break me. _

 

Stop.

 

Breathe.

 

Up.

 

Her fingers intertwined with rock after rock, nails digging into harsh plastic and chest pressed flat against the cracked surface. Her knuckles whitened with each grip, and the harness seared skin with every point of contact. The cacophonous echoes of laughter and conversation below barked through her ears and rattled down her spine. Looking up, though, it seemed as though progress had been made. The end was far yet visible. She knew it was a mistake to look down, but just a glance couldn’t do much harm. Just a glance - 

 

Her jaw locked in a grimace. 

 

Fear was a paralytic, gripping her petite frame in its grating claws, while paranoia was intangible and scattered, fluttering around her like a flock of shrieking ravens. And the duo was overwhelming, they were too much, this was all  _ too much _ and -

 

Stop.

 

Breathe.

 

Up.

 

Fragility would not be an advantage. She would continue.

 

When her foot became latched on a grip, restricting her movement. When the severe surface of the rocks bit into her fingers and scraped her palms. When she looked above and could not see anywhere to go. She would continue. She had promised herself that she would continue.

 

Stop.

 

Breathe.

 

Up.

 

_ Victory. _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> A little bit of backstory, for those who care:  
> The class was told to write a story at the location of a recent excursion. Because I am an introverted little shit that stays inside all the time, I was pressed for options. But I'd gone rock climbing with a friend the week before, so there was that. And fear of heights? I could work with that. 
> 
> Anyways. Hope you liked it. Let me know if you have any feedback! :)


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